Black Talon
by RougeJedi15
Summary: Fresh off Korriban, Shreave finds himself booked on a suicide mission by an arrogant Imperial Moff. With a new ally helping him babysit the vicious assassin Eryon, perhaps they could survive.


Shreave Rhell walked down the departure corridor of the Imperial Fleet's Vaiken Spacedock, wishing that Vette was there.

The playful Twi'lek had proven quite capable, and despite Baras' obvious disdain, Shreave had asked her to join him in his crusade to make the Empire decent for once.

However, she was currently busy on Dromund Kaas, settling into the apartment Baras had supplied.

Shreave had sent her there to hopefully keep her out of the machinations that he knew his visit here would put into motion.

While Kaesin had taken her personal ship, Baras had ordered Shreave to check in with a few of his Lieutenants on the fleet, members of Baras' network whom Shreave would be liasoning with.

Preliminary objectives finished, and a relaxing night at the cantina under his belt, Shreave was ready to go.

However, as he neared the hangar where the shuttle he'd reserved was loading, he noticed a Duros waving at him, calling him over.

 _"Sith! Darth Baras has booked you a seat on the Imperial ship Black Talon, and wishes you to oversee the journey."_

Shreave nodded, and asked, "Alone? Or may my allies accompany me?"

 _"As you will be the overseer, you may bring whom you like, though the Captain may not appreciate too much interference."_

Nodding, Shreave settled himself on a nearby crate, watching the lift.

Zal and Eryon had been scheduled on the same shuttle to Kaas, and Vette's slicing experience had gotten him the others.

The trio of Bounty Hunters that had joined them in the cantina last night, chatting about the fact that they were part of the Great Hunt.

Shreave hoped to get one of them, if not all, would join him.

The others, a couple, a Human man and a Rattataki female, whose lack of background made them suspicious, seemed odd.

Civilian passengers on a honeymoon to the capital of the Empire, in a small Sith owned shuttle, was a big enough anomaly for Shreave to keep an eye out.

When the lift dropped, he saw the Hunters with Zalia and Eryon, all dwarfed by the massive Deshade beast that Zalia had bound.

"Guys! Come on, I got us a ride on a big ship, not that cramped shuttle!" He called, waving.

"Why thank you, Sir. It would be a pleasure to join you on this interplanetary voyage!" The couple had just arrived, and the man, dressed rather stuffily, was smiling broadly.

"Yeah. What he said." His companion added, rolling her eyes.

Shreave felt his face fall, and saw Zalia stifling a fit of giggles behind the couple.

"As fun as this sounds, Lord Zash wants me to arrive as soon as possible, so I'll take the shuttle." Zalia said, sounding amused, though sad enough.

Eryon smirked at Shreave, until Ffauresh patted his shoulder heavily.

The massive Powertech was smiling behind his helmet, Shreave guessed, both from the aura of amusement present in his Force signature, and the tone of his voice.

"If you don't mind, Zalia, we'll take this one with us. He may provide amusement on the surely tedious trip we'll suffer through."

"Thank you, Ffauresh. So long as Shreave doesn't mind, it will be a load off my mind while settling in."

"No problem. Vette's at my place if you want a place to stay when you arrive." Shreave smiled, and Zalia nodded back, smiling herself.

When Zalia turned back to the shuttle, she noticed the other two Bounty Hunters following, and smiled.

"Don't want to deal with that powder keg?" She asked, and the girl dressed in gold Mandalorian _beskar-gam_ armor shrugged.

"We need to check in on Kaas to secure our place in the Hunt. Ffauresh just enjoys making trouble."

"Well, hopefully the _Talon_ makes it to Dromund Kaas in one piece."

Shreave, meanwhile, was punching in the access code for the docking hatch.

When it opened, Shreave saw a young female Lieutenant standing at attention, accompanied by a number of guards.

"Apprentice Shreave Rhell, I assume?" She asked, straightening.

"Yes, that's right. I assume there's a reason the captain isn't greeting me himself?"

The amused smirk that accompanied the question robbed it of insult, while the wealthy young man pushed forwards.

"The bridge, my good lady, if you would. I would speak unto your Captain, to establish the proper rapport."

Lieutenant Sylas frowned, and said, "No, at least not until we know who you are. And the Captain prefers to keep to himself."

The affable attitude shifted slightly, but the man kept a wide smile.

"Baranth Lannis, my lady. Perhaps this will change your mind."

He passed Sylas a few credits, though Shreave could have sworn that an ID was nestled between them.

"Of course Mr. Lannis. Right this way. Sith, your droid is in the conference room right down there."

Shreave opened his mouth slightly to object, but Sylas was leading the couple towards the bridge.

As they left, the ship shuddered almost imperceptibly, signifying their jump to hyperspace.

Shreave turned to the others, and asked, "Want to talk to a droid I own? I never met it, but gifts are always nice."

Ffauresh nodded, but Eryon was already halfway down the hall, headed for the door.

The others jogged after him, Shreave muttering how bad he just wanted to strangle the Twi'lek.

As they entered, a protocol droid swiveled to face them, eyes flickering as it scanned them.

"Identity Comfirmed. Greetings, My designation is NR-02. My primary functions are diplomacy, translation, and manslaughter."

Shreave looked at him, and asked "Who do you belong to? The Lieutenant said you are my droid, but I don't have one."

"Please, take a seat. I have a proposition from my master that may interest you."

"What in the verse makes you think that I actually care what your boss wants?" Ffauresh asked, clearly focused primarily on the 'manslaughter' aspect of the droid's functionality.

The glowing eyes flicked harshly to the hunter. "You are in Imperial Space, Bounty Hunter. Therefore, you must obey. Everyone in Imperial Space must listen to my Master."

Shreave and Ffauresh traded glances, glad that Eryon had kept his mouth shut thus far.

"NR-02 to Grand Moff Kilran. You are now in contact with the Black Talon, and the Apprentice of Darth Baras."

A towering hologram had erupted for the center of the conference table, and an Imperial Grand Moff was looking them over with meticulous detail.

"Ah, so I am. Baras seems to have been right about one thing, at least. You always have a little army of hangers on. Why?"

His voice was soft and precicely modulated, and Shreave knew that the confused and curious query was perfectly insincere.

"A champion in the Great Hunt and a Sith apprentice bound to obey me. Who couldn't use them?" Shreave asked, looking vaguely dismissive towards the titles.

"Precisely." Grand Moff Kilran smiled tightly. "I am the commander of the Fifth Fleet, second to the Minister of War, and my personal favorite, the 'Butcher of Coruscant'. Quaint, I know."

Eryon's attention had been aroused by this last title, and he ceased examining the protocol droid to engage Kilran in conversation.

"The butcher of...Is there something wrong with the hologram, or is your face supposed to look like that?"

Shreave and Ffauresh sighed in unison, turning angrily towards the Sith. "Shut it, Erry. The big boys are talking!"

Ffauresh nodded in agreement, then Kilran's voice cut in.

"The scars? A gift from an old Jedi friend. I barely notice them anymore."

Kilran, far from offended, seemed faintly amused at the Twi'lek's insubordination. He then turned his attention back to Shreave.

"Six hours ago, a Republic force engaged in an illegal border skirmish. One enemy warship escaped.

"That warship, the Brentaal Starr, is carrying a passenger of vital strategic importance. Your ship is the only one positioned to intercept."

Shreave shrugged. "This no military ship, so looks like you're out of luck."

Kilran's expression left no doubt that he had not merely been suggesting their intervention.

"I think not. The passenger, codenamed 'The General', is said to be conveying military secrets to Republic High Command.

"This is unacceptable. Unfortunately, Captain Orzik, the man in charge of your vessel, disagrees with my assessment of the threat, and has refused my orders.

"The General will be brought back, dead or alive, and show Captain Orzik what is done with traitors in the Empire."

Shreave scoffed. "This is a suicide mission, Kilran. If anything happens to us, you will answer to Darth Baras himself, as well as Lord Zash."

Kilran's face tightened with anger. "You will not make threats, boy. You may be Sith, but you are nothing more than an apprentice. You have no power over me.

"Contact me when the General has been dealt with. Don't tempt me into using your ship as an example for those who would defy my orders."

Shreave cut the hologram with a precise application of the Force, and snarled irritably.

"I hope he dies screaming one day." Ffauresh said, flexing his gauntleted hand, springing the hidden blade and studying the edge.

Eryon nodded, glancing at Shreave. "Do what you want. I'm not listening to that hideous _shutta._ When he calls, I'll tell him what he can do with his orders."

Shreave groaned slightly, and said, "Do we have a choice? He knows who each of us is, as well as all pertinent information on our whereabouts for the forseeable future."

Ffauresh nodded, a sharp jerking motion, and said, "The three of us against a warship. I like our chances."

"You're insane, and we're all going to die either way. At least this'll be fun." Shreave agreed.

Turning around and storming from the room, Eryon led the other two in a quick lope to the bridge.

Their path, however, was blocked by a large security soldier, with a small retinue.

"Halt! No one shall approach the bridge! Captain's orders!"

Shreave glared, and stated, "We have our own orders. Stand down, by the authority of Darth Baras and Grand Moff Kilran!"

The soldier shuffled uncomfortably, but didn't move.

"Apoogies my Lord, but should I allow you in, Orzik will have my head."

"As will we, soldier, and Sith are worse than military officers in both creativity and sheer malice."

Ffauresh sent him a meaningful look, annd Eryon's fingers began sparking purple.

The soldier' resolve was clearly wavering, but Kilran's droid was less patient.

"We must reach the bridge." It's right arm came up, and blasted a hole through the soldier's head.

The rest brought their weapons up, as Shreave spun, slashing off the droid's arm.

Ffauresh tossed a light concussion grenade, scattering the soldiers, as Eryon unleashed a series of lightning blasts to keep them down.

The droid was staring at Shreave, remants of its primary cannon arm sparking.

"Treason will be punished in time, Apprentice Shreave. My Master has a long memory."

Shreave shrugged, entire body tense with anger, radiating it strongly enough that even the force-less Ffauresh felt it.

"You are not judge, jury, or executioner, droid, you are a servant, and I am in charge of this mission. You will obey me, clear?"

"I answer only to Grand Moff Kilran, and you are in violation of his ordinances. Bounty Hunter, Twi'lek, subdue this man."

Eryon spat at the droid, the wet glob causing a photoreceptor to pop noisily.

Shreave twirled his right blade, then sheared precisely through the droid's neck, then picked up the detached arm.

"Means to contact Kilran, done. Useless droid removed, done."

Eryon picked up the detached head, which was still demanding the destruction of all three of them, and tucked it under his arm.

"Might as well return it to Kilran. Might reduce his anger."

Shreave shrugged, and said, "Couldn't hurt."


End file.
